BY 


IJBflAfty 


ALBOIN   AND   ROSAMOND 


LESSER  POEMS. 


BY 

ROBERT  BURTON  RODNEY 

U.  S.  N. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
1870. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870,  by 
ROBERT    BURTON    RODNEY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


BY    HIS   REMOTE   SON, 
TO 

WILLIAM  RODNEY  OF  RODNEY-STOKE, 

IN   THE  COUNTY   OF   SOMERSET,  ENGLAND. 
DIED  Jl'NE  10,  1669,  AND  BURIED  IN  HUNTSPILL  CHURCH — THAT  SHIRE. 

A     POET; 

HIS  MOTHER  COUSIN-GERMAN  TO  EDWARD  VI; 
HIS    FAMILY   ANCIENT   AND    MANORIAL:     ITS    NORMAN 

NAME, 

SPOKEN   WITH    PRAISE   AND   TRUST    BY    KINGS   AND    PRESIDENTS; 
AND   IDENTIFIED  WITH 

ENGLISH  ULOKY  AND   AMERICAN   LIBERTY. 


FROM  out  a  vault  a  flowering  vine 
Escaled  the  minster  buttress  old  : 

Its  crest  was  where  the  noonbeams  shine ; 
Its  roots  within  the  buried  mould  ; 

And  from  the  hand-like  sprays  were  thrown 

Its  blossoms  on  the  tablet  stone. 

So,  cherished  sire,  whose  name  I  write, 
Thy  humble  muse  revives  in  me  : 

'Tis  nurtured  in  another  light 
Of  letters,  grace  and  liberty; 

But  flowers  which  thy  spirit  gave, 

Shall  strew  thy  unforgotten  grave  ! 


.CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Alboin  and  Rosamond       .         .         .         .         .         .11 

Rural  Leisure   ........       48 

Odes.     (Nos.  I  to  11) 61 

The  Blockade-Runner 77 

A  Seaside  Dream      .         .         .         .         .         •         .81 
The  Iceberg 92 


NOTE. 


THE  story  of  Alboin  and  Rosamond  is  tersely  narrated 
by  Edward  Gibbon,  in  that  Twenty  Years  Task  so  worthy 
of  his  infinite  learning  and  Corinthian  majesty  of  mind. 

The  Poem  at  times  traces  the  text,  as  a  railroad  the 
windings  of  river.  Comparison  will  show  where  the  writer 
strikes  off  into  borders  of  incident,  description,  philosophy 
and  morality :  designing  that  these  many  stanzas,  like  the 
successive  arches  of  a  Campania  aqueduct,  bring  the  waters 
of  truth  from  the  far  mountains  of  history. 

R. 


ALBOIN   AND    ROSAMOND. 


WALKING  Ravenna's  streets  one  day, 
A  quaint  cathedral,  old  and  dim ; 

With  open  doors  beside  the  way, 
Allured  me  with  its  vesper  hymn. 

Few  lingered  in  the  nave ;  and  I 
Knew  not  the  language  of  the  rite ; 

So  crossing  to  a  legend  nigh, 
I  read  it  by  the  failing  light: — 

A  brazen-lettered  slab  of  lead 
Did  some  red  cardinal  inhume ; 

A  marble  angel's  wings  outspread 
Deepened  the  shadow  on  the  tomb  : 

While  shrines  ranged  bright  and  tablets  cold 
Within  the  aisles'  columnar  march  ; 

And  victory-gilded  banners  old 

Drooped  from  the  frescoed  transept  arch. 


I  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

But  humbler  grave  I  now  espied : — 

A  sunken  sepulchre  beyond, 
Which  bore  upon  its  mouldering  side 

The  simple  carving  "  Rosamond." 

•      • 

Soon  the  grey  verger  drawing  near, 
With  all  dismissed,  observed  me  then  ; 

And  while  we  twain  sat  lonely  here, 
He  told  the  history  I  pen. 


ALBOIN  the  Lombard's  prince  and  heir, 

The  Gepidse's  in  battle  slew: 
Loud  to  his  sire  men  declare 

The  Feast  of  Victory  his  due. 

The  monarch  spake — "Our  law  must  stand 
No  prince  sits  at  his  father's  board, 

Till  he  from  foreign,  royal  hand, 

Receives  his  armor,  spear  and  sword  ! ' ' 

Alboin  in  reverence  bowed  :  he  chose 
Forty  companions  ;  and  his  way 

Took  to  the  stronghold  of  his  foes — 
The  palace  of  the  Gepidse. 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Their  king  with  hospitable  rite, 

Met  the  destroyer  of  his  son, 
Who  at  the  banquet  chanced  that  night 

To  sit  where  sat  the  fallen  one. 

In  Turisund  sad  longing  wakes  ; 

That  hoary  host  can  but  repine — 
"  How  dear  that  seat  the  stranger  takes  ; 

How  hateful  is  this  guest  of  mine  !" 

Flushed  Cunimund,  his  living  heir, 
With  filial  and  fraternal  fire  : — 

Fierce  his  quick  sarcasm  scorched  the  air, 
Fiercer  a  Lombard  was  replier  : 

All  thundered  up  from  o'erthrown  seats, 
With  raging  crests  and  weapons'  blaze; 

But  lo  !  what  voice  their  names  repeats, — 
What  spell  the  dreadful  typhoon  stays? 

"Observe  the  truce — let  honor  reign 
Although  our  hearts  with  torture  bleed  : 

Bring  me  the  armor  of  my  slain  ; 

Give  it  the  stranger — 'twas  his  meed  !" 

Invested  as  he  had  aspired, 

Alboin  was  told  to  part  in  peace ; 


|.  ALB  O  IN  AND  ROSAMOND. 

While  aged  Turisund  retired, 

To  wait  in  death  his  grief's  surcease. 

Thou  wert  Barbarian,  history  saith  ; 

But  O  with  virtue,  scorn  of  crimes, 
With  lowlier  meekness,  loftier  faith, — 

To  shame  the  thrones  of  polished  times 


Now  the  departing  guest  to  view, 

Looked  Rosamond  from  out  her  bower : 

The  child  of  Cunimund  he  knew ; 
And  earth  had  cause  to  wail  the  hour. 

His  straggling  spears  toward  home  advance  ; 

But  Alboin  execrates  his  lot : 
Lovelorn  at  one  unhappy  glance, 

Lo,  all  his  honors  are  forgot ; 

And  with  them,  his  affianced  bride 
Then  waiting  in  St.  Denis'  nave : 

Thus  quickly  he  that  troth  denied, 
The  House  of  Clovis  slowly  gave. 

He  nears  his  town  on  mountain  shelf: 
How  swift  his  drama's  changes  wing ! — 


ALB O IN  AND   ROSAMOND.  15 

His  father's  dead;  and  he  himself 
Exalted  on  a  shield,  a  king. 

The  Franks  and  Visigoths  attend, 

Italia  gratulation  lifts, 
Byzantines  hides  and  jewels  send  ; — 

Disguising  tribute  under  gifts  : 

But  slave  of  impulse — passion-mad, 
He  loathes,  he  tramples  on  his  good  ; 

All  sleepless  till  at  last  he  had 

The  royal  maid  by  missive  wooed. 

On  silk,  with  purple  ink  and  lac, 

A  captive  Greek  prepares  the  strain ; 

A  noble  bears  it — brings  it  back — 

"fis  spit  upon,  'tis  wrenched  in  twain  ! 

Stung  with  contempt,  his  wrath  aglow, 
He  leads  and  hurls  his  gathered  hordes  : 

The  Gepidoe  repulse  their  foe, 

By  succor  from  the  Grecian  swords. 

O'erwhelmed  with  failure,  war's  fatigues, 
Bleeding  with  loss,  his  kingdom  torn ; — 


Z6  ALBOIN  AND  ROSAMOND. 

Across  a  hundred  ravaged  leagues, 
He  hears  her  silvery  laugh  of  scorn. 


REVENGE  !  thou  whirlwind  of  the  soul ; 

Was  thy  arouser  e'er  devised, 
Of  steadier  fervor,  less  control, 

Intenser  force,  than  love  despised  ? 

Scorn  of  one's  talents,  conduct,  lot, 
Or  birth,  may  fortitude  o'ercome ; 

But  separate  proffered  self! — the  shot, 
Through  tenfold  meekness,  pierces  home. 

He  only  can  withstand  the  smart, 

Who  unto  God  refers  his  lot : 
Divine  decrees  control  the  heart, 

And  make  it  either  love  or  not. 

The  man  of  prayer's  complaint  upwells 
Beneath  that  stroke,  of  strokes  the  worst ; 

"Turn  my  lost  battle,  Lord,  or  else 
Give  me  the  peace  I  had  at  first !" 

And  even  here  it  shall  be  proved — 
The  sanctified,  afflictive  hour, 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Was  better  boon  than  she  beloved, 
With  all  the  graces  for  her  dower. 

The  spikenard  vase,  when  broken,  spread 
A  heavenly  fragrance  all  around  ; 

But  noxious  things,  when  crushed,  will  shed 
Their  secret  poison  on  the  ground  : 

So  the  proud  hearts  disdain  to  yield, 
Recoil  on  God  who  smote  them  low, 

Brave  the  thick  bosses  of  His  shield ; 
Fail  or  succeed — to  greater  woe. 

With  brain  in  baleful  scheming  deft, 
Alboin  each  last  resource  debates ; 

He  looks  around  :   allies  are  left ; 
And  the  Avars  he  supplicates. 

In  haughty  apathy  they  heard:  — 

'•  Why  should  thy  quarrel  ours  be  made?' 

Till  by  his  abjectness  bestirred, 

They  name  the  recompense  of  aid  : 

"  Tithe  us  thy  nation's  cattle  now; 

And,  be  the  Gepidce  subdued, 
Then  all  their  lands  to  us  allow, 

With  half  the  spoils  and  multitude  !" 


1 8  ALBOIN  AND  ROSAMOND. 

Again  the  ecstasy  of  wrath 

Comes  on  ;  and  prompts  compliance  meek : 
"All  that  the  Chagan  names,  he  hath  ; 

And  all  thy  avarice  can  seek  !" 

His  eyes,  far  set  on  vengeance,  spurn 
The  care  war's  overture  demands ; 

As  fowler  aiming  at  the  erne, 

Heeds  not  the  pitfalls  where  he  stands. 

Avars  from  pasture,  hut  and  hunt, 
The  whipcrack  their  war-signal  own  ; 

The  thunderous  horde,  with  fraying  front, 
Invades  the  Gepidae  alone  : 

While  Alboin  his  career  deflects, 
And  elsewhere  enters  with  his  few; 

Whom  reigning  Cunimund  selects 
The  first  in  detail  to  pursue. 

The  Caesar,  angered  at  a  slight, 

Sends  no  more  succors  from  the  East : 

Vain  Gepidse  no  aid  invite ; 

And  that  of  puerile  Greeks  the  least. 

Shall  we  trust  Fortune  ? — death  or  bars 
O'erwhelm  the  confident  and  strong: 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

The  sword  trust? — it  in  duels,  wars, 
Absolves  and  legalizes  wrong  : 

Whom  shall  we  trust? — whate'er  our  force, 
Whate'er  our  weakness,  Prayer  maintain  : 

Alas  !   'tis  empty  woe's  resource — 
Fullness  neglects  that  potent  strain. 

Stanch  Cunimund  and  host  are  lost ; 

And  chaliced,  for  two  centuries  gaze, 
His  skull  aflame  with  golden  cost, 

Grims  wassail  nights  and  festal  days. 

The  bold  and  bad  succeed  ;  and  why? — 
Faith  is  so  precious  in  God's  view, 

Their  recklessness  He  shames  us  by  ; 
Rewards  their  counterfeit  as  true. 

Why  wail,  O  heart,  those  freaks  of  Fate 
So  many  maxims  have  defined ; 

New  coynesses  of  Chance  relate, 
Call  man  uncertain,  Fortune  blind  ? 

'Tis  God  elects  our  flush  to  mar, 
Or  to  despair  joy's  sequel  bring; — 


20  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

That  He  may  teach  us  what  we  are, 
And  prove  Himself  the  only  King ! 


To  Rosamond  went  the  conqueror ; 

But  not  in  pride,  nor  armor-clad : — 
His  step  was  lowlier  than  before, 

His  garment  mean,  his  aspect  sad. 

He  pleaded  war  the  sole  device 

Of  rulers  then  ; — 'twas  equal  chanced— 

Her  father  might  have  triumphed  twice, 
Her  nation  and  not  his  advanced  : 

What  oped  the  rivalry  of  blood — 
Was  it  not  love?  and  if  despair 

Changed  it  to  rage,  he  flung  the  good 
All  at  her  feet — himself  was  there  ! 

The  royal  orphan  helpless  stood — 
Her  thoughts,  anxieties  she  kept ; 

Yielded  the  hand  her  master  sued  ; 
But  with  averted  gesture  wept : 

And  while  the  grass  of  peace  resmoothed 
The  hillocks  of  the  fatal  field 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Her  captive  countrymen  she  soothed, 
Their  needs  abated,  wounding  healed. 

Oft  forests  heard  her  hymn,  her  sob, — 
Alone  there  save  her  grandsire's  shade: 

It  calmed  resentment's  burning  throb. 
It  made  a  chancel  of  the  glade : 

Yet  in  her  form  of  radiant  dust, 
A  will  awaited  time's  employ, — 

Like  sulphur  'neath  the  planet's  crust, 
Reserved  to  shatter  and  destroy. 

The  Chagan  gained  his  bloody  due ; 

For  Transylvania  his  became, — 
Moldavia  and  Wallachia  too, 

And  eastern  Hungary ;  but  the  fame — 

Fell  to  Alboin  :  him  minstrels  chose ; 

His  valor,  largess,  skill  recall :  — 
In  many  tongues  his  songs  arose, 

Till  Charlemagne  sought  and  re-wrote  all. 


EMBOSSED  around  the  ancient  vase, 
Are  scenes  and  heroes  of  its  day : 


22  ALB O IN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

When  wrought,  in  quivering  fire's  enchase, 
They  flecked  the  incandescent  clay. 

Soon  cold  and  garlanded  it  lured 
Amid  a  villa's  marble  bloom  ; 

And  then  two  thousand  years  endured 
The  breathless  darkness  of  a  tomb. 

Moderns  its  tracery  behold  ; 

But  present  cares  diverting  call ; 
And  lone  and  sombre,  gathering  mould, 

It  decks  a  transatlantic  hall : 

Till  pensive  child  strays  idly  past : — 
Its  marvels  strike,  its  histories  chain  ; 

To  him,  as  when  in  furnace  cast, 
Those  scenes  and  heroes  glow  again. 

A  virtue  quits  that  object  dumb ; 

He  feels  its  emulative  thrill ; — 
That  earth  a  power  has  become, 

Though  to  another  earthy  still. 

So  stands  the  Story  of  the  Cross  : — 
To  worldly  eye  unmeaning,  cold  ; 

But  in  the  child  its  truths  engross, 
Inspires  the  saving  faith  of  old. 


ALB 0 IN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Its  simplest  deed  of  love's  more  fair 
Than  glory  spread  by  minstrel  bribed ; 

And  the  Redeemer's  household  Prayer, 
Than  all  the  songs  that  kings  transcribed. 

Sunlight  contains  all  colors :  so 

With  Faith, — all  graces  mingle  here  : — 

Sorrow  alone  their  hues  can  show — 
The  only  prism  her  crystal  tear. 


23 


A  BROKEN  fount  is  mundane  joy ; 

And  whoso  drinks  shall  thirst  again 
Soon,  soon  the  zests  of  triumph  cloy ; 

And  appetite  revives  its  pain  : 

The  heart  inquires  if  all  be  got 
Of  its  imagined  merit's  due  ; 

While  each  enhancement  of  the  lot, 
Enhances  that  vain  merit  too. 

But  real  cares  made  Alboin  brood  :  — 
Profusion  lasts  and  treasures  fail  : 

Of  Southern  wealth  and  lassitude, 
He  hears  with  eagerness  the  tale. 


I  ALBOIN  AND  ROSAMOND. 

In  the  still  depth  the  dolphin  floats, 
Distending  soft  each  gilded  fin  ; 

Nor  the  o'erbalanced  sailor  notes — 
Poising  the  deathful  javelin : 

So  fair  Italia  in  her  plain, 

Thought  not  the  restless  Lombard's  quest ; 
Till  kneeling  on  her  Alpine  chain, 

He  drove  the  arrow  to  her  breast. 

As  lion  from  the  rustling  nook 

Steps  out ;  and  silent  pausing  stands ; 

The  browsing  flocks  a  moment  look — 
Then  fly  the  devastated  lands ; 

So  from-  the  vineyards  empty  fled 
Esquire  and  gentle,  tamed  by  ease ; 

While  some  unto  the  islets  sped, 
And  built  the  City  of  the  Seas. 

Throw  wide  the  terraced  pomp,  where  fruit 
And  lilies  mock  the  sick  one's  eye ; 

Parks  where,  while  noble  archers  shoot, 
The  needy  can  but  look  and  die  ! 

The  smoke  shall  roll  a  denser  black, 

From  paintings  rich  with  rainbows'  spoil ; 


ALBO1N  AND   ROSAMOND. 

And  paneled  ceilings  crisper  crack, 
With  chiseled  wreaths  and  glazing  oil. 

Unlock,  unlock  each  haughty  door ; 

And  pride's  adorned  arcanums  show  ( 
They  never  opened  to  the  poor; 

And  God  shall  ope  them  to  the  foe. 

High  at  your  feasts  His  sad  ones  put, 

Nor  deem  the  stranger  to  intrude  ; 
For  penury  has  a  hallowing  foot — 
Exclude  it  and  you  Christ  exclude. 

The  Voice  that  moved  the  prophet's  pen, 
Still  speaks  to  luxury  and  sin  : 

Show  mercy  now,  O  happy  men, 
Before  your  mourning  shall  begin  ! 

Ah  those  benignant  hearts  are  each, 

Forever  rare,  forever  new  ; 
Like  amber  on  the  pebbled  beach  ; 

And  as  the  tears  of  rapture  few. 

Alboin  that  kingdom's  map  unrolled — 
Effaced  all  titles,  wrote  again  ; 

And  LOMBARDY  is  still  enscrolled, 

Through  every  century,  conquest,  reign. 


25 


26  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

WHEN  the  advanced  and  newly-crowned 
Survey  their  suitors,  false  and  true  ; 

Satan  surpasses  all  around 

In  skill  to  flatter,  lead  and  sue. 

With  humble  men  his  bands  abate  : 
He  can  endure  the  loss  of  those  ; 

But  with  the  great  he  rises  great, 
And  all  his  massing  cohorts  throws. 

From  weak  ones,  some  deputed  elf 
May  the  nefarious  purpose  gain  ; 

But  to  the  strong  he  goes  himself— 
And  few  have  heard  his  voice  in  vain  : 

"  Devote  to  me  your  splendid  trust — 
Your  beauty,  titles,  wealth,  applause; 

Or  if  believe  the  Lord  you  must, 
At  least  be  idle  in  His  cause !" 

"  Go  serve  Him  !"  wily  Pharaoh  cries — 
"But  leave  your  cattle — journeying  far  !' 

Nor  thinks  the  dupe,  as  he  complies, 
The  heart  is  where  the  treasures  are. 

He  feels  the  mastering  power  of  sin  ; 
And  often  strives  to  break  the  spell ; 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

And  then  as  oft  falls  back  within 
The  magnet  gravity  of  hell : 

Till  in  his  mind,  the  Evil  wraith 
Shuts  off  each  light  still  holy  there  ; 

Withers  the  listless  hand  of  faith — 
Perpetual  seals  the  lips  of  prayer. 

O  ye,  with  starry  talents  dight, 

Whose  passions  rage  in  generous  war ; 

Harness  those  mettled  steeds  of  might, 
And  bind  them  to  Religion's  car: 

Serve  God  with  all  you  are  and  own — 
Happy  to  pledge  such,  chances  vast ; 

Before  the  rainbow-circled  Throne, 
Rejoice  that  you  have  crowns  to  cast ! 

Hail  heaven-devoted  spirit ! — would 
That  we  had  more,  our  world  to  bless ; 

To  force  the  pathway,  high  and  good, 
Through  whole  defeat  and  half  success  : 

Let  lower  minds  exult,  despond, 

Or  bide  content  with  present  deeds; — 

That  clearer  vision,  set  beyond, 
Alone  to  full  achievement  leads. 


27 


28  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Relieved  on  classic  marble  wide, 
Legions  parade  the  trophied  ore, 

Centurions  look  from  side  to  side  ; 
But  laureled  Csesar  straight  before. 


A  MANY-HOURED  Autumn  chase 

Had  swept  through  rustling  vineyards  home 
For  gaily  dead  to  zeal  and  grace, 

The  king  his  sportive  miles  must  roam. 

He  drew  his  foamy  bit  to  note 

The  quarry,  boar  and  wildfowl  spoil ; 

And  flung  aside  his  leathern  coat, 
With  many  a  forest  struggle's  soil. 

The  grateful  bath  and  linened  ewer 
Prepared  for  evening  feast  and  ease  ; 

And  moated  lines  entrenched  secure 
That  villa  of  a  Veronese  : 

While  the  far  owner  mayhap  gives 

Less  thought  to  exile,  want  and  pain, — 

When  hearing  that  a  monarch  lives 
Where  she  can  never  walk  again. 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

So  children  of  a  noble  stem 

View  with  odd  principle  of  pride, 

E'en  a  disease,  if  proving  them 
To  be  by  common  blood  allied. 

Then  larder,  river,  vault  and  vat 
Sent  to  the  banquet  all  they  may : 

Along  the  oak  the  huntsmen  sat ; 

Their  chief's  eburnean  chair  midway. 

Medals  with  emperors'  brows  embossed, 
Lay  round  his  neck  in  golden  rest ; 

A  glittering  sash  of  garnets  crossed 
The  tufted  ermine  of  his  breast : 

To  clothe  his  massive  head  aloft, 

Two  foxes  gave  their  pricking  scalps  ; 

And  on  the  floor  his  shoon  were  soft 
In  wolf  skins  of  the  higher  Alps. 

From  his  blue  eye  an  instant  sailed, 
As  'twere  a  squadron  armed  for  fight; 

And  then,  as  pensive  thought  prevailed, 
It  mellowed  to  poetic  light. 

No  branching  sconces  darted  fire 

Along  the  walls,  with  wearying  glare  ; 


29 


,  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Nor  central  candelabra's  pyre 

Swung  flashing  in  the  withered  air  : 

But  from  the  ceiling  to  his  chin, 

Cherubs  let  down  a  lamplet's  chain — 

Twelve  burners  lapped  the  oil  within 

Twelve  shells  of  bright,  translucent  stain. 

So  sweetly  darkened  is  the  hall, 
Its  baffled  splendors  fitful  glim, 

Like  bandits'  sparry  cave,  when  all 
Save  each  surrounding  face  is  dim. 

With  rising  riot,  a  fiend  steeped 

Dormant  in  wine  a  century  tunned  ; 

To  Alboin's  mouth,  from  prison  leaped, 
And  cried  "  The  skull  of  Cunimund  !" 

They  brought  the  trophy  set  in  gold, — 
The  gems  seen  far  before  it  came  ; 

And  in  its  sutured  channel  rolled 
Nectars  of  strange,  provincial  name  : 

The  conqueror  poured  with  every  brand  ; 

And  passed  the  cup  for  each  to  sip ; — 
Each  first  quaff  mounting  in  his  hand, 

The  last  returning  to  his  lip : 


ALB 0 IN  AND   ROSAAIOND. 

Till  with  the  long  excess  aglow, 

He  seized  the  bowl  with  altered  voice — 

"  This  to  the  queen,  that  I  may  know 
She  with  her  sire  and  us  rejoice  !" 

He  filled  it  to  the  topmost  line, 

While  all  sat  round  in  full-eyed  hush ; 

But  hark  !  the  gurgling  of  the  wine 
Is  like  the  life-blood's  throttling  gush  ; 

And  as  he  swung  it  to  the  groom, 
It  spilt  with  many  a  plash  and  stain ; 

And  a  thin  smoke  arose,  as  from 
A  mangled  soldier  instant  slain. 

The  stripling  trembles,  as  with  lips 

In  superstitious  fright  apart ; 
Away  he  bears  it,  as  it  drips, 

And  hands  the  queen  a  broken  heart : 

For  with  a  wail  which  faintings  break, 
She  sees  the  mournful  token  come; 

And  hears  the  message  Alboin  spake  ; 
And  dips  her  lips  with  horror  numb. 

Submissive  words  go  softly  back 

With  that  dread  chalice  to  the  hall  ; 


31 


2  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

But  now  a  storm  is  fringing  black; 

And  darker  drops  than  tears  must  fall : 

For  she  could  many  a  wrong  relate, 

Unexpiated  by  renown ; 
And  sufferance  brave  had  changed  to  hate- 

Unsoothed  by  a  divided  crown  : 

And  this  his  closing  stroke  of  shame  ! 

But  soon  along  the  terraced  path, 
Her  favorite  guard,  Helmichis,  came — 

Summoned  to  serve  her  fatal  wrath. 

The  whispered  crime  wakes  no  alarms ; 

No  oath  of  reticence  occurs; — 
Held  firmly  by  those  matchless  charms, 

His  mind  is  the  reflex  of  hers : 

But  the  war  king  to  meet  alone  ! — 
It  forces  death-damp  to  the  brow : 

One  only  is  his  equal  known, 

Whose  aid  they  dare  petition  now  : 

So,  through  her  minion  sent  to  sue, 

She  stalwart  Peredeus  tried ; 
But  the  camp's  champion,  grimly  true, 

Her  every  plea  and  bribe  denied. 


33 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

A  thought  was  left — amid  her  train 
Was  one  with  him  an  amour  led  : 

That  night,  a  night  of  gloom  and  rain, 
She  chose  whose  humbler  place  instead  : 


The  guilty  truth  Helmichis  made 

The  warrior  know,  when  noon  was  high  :  — 
"  Fulfill  her  mandate,  or  betrayed, 

At  sunset  thou  art  led  to  die  !" 

So,  self-devoted,  naught  can  shock — 

No  sacrifice  dismay  her  more  : 
As  one  would  kneeling  at  the  block, 

Strip  the  last  priceless  gem  he  wore. 

The  traitor  guardsmen,  at  a  wheel 

In  secret  by  each  other  turned  ; 
Whetted  anew  their  heavy  steel ; 

And  loitered  till  her  plan  they  learned. 


THE  eve  was  coming  on ;  and  glad 
Upon  a  tranquil  couch  to  fall  ; 

His  brow  with  vanished  transport  sad, 
The  husband  sought  her  lonely  hall. 
3 


34 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

She  brushed  his  glossy,  flaxen  crown ; 

Peered  in  his  swimming  eyes  of  blue ; 
Moistened  his  burning  cheeks  ;  and  down 

His  mane-like  beard,  her  comb  she  drew: 

And  from  her  pearly  fan  evolved, 

The  zephyrs  waved  his  forehead's  tress ; 

Her  silk,  imbued  with  flowers  resolved, 
Shook  fragrance  round  each  fond  caress. 

The  drowsy  monarch  thus  ensnared, 

Forgot  the  fever  of  the  day ; 
Forgot  his  orgied  insult  dared  ; 

And  brokenly  she  heard  him  say — 

"Beside  the  rugged  life  I  led, 

How  sweetly  paid  my  toils  have  been  : 

How  bright  my  captured  cities  spread, 
When  I  remember  thee,  O  queen  ! 

"  I  sometimes  dread  the  chance  of  war 
Will  reave  me  of  these  valleys  green ; 

But  I'll  range  wide  to  conquer  more 
For  thee,  loved  Rosamond,  O  queen  !" 

No  more  can  this  her  bent  restrain, 
Than  iron,  white  with  flames  below ; 


ALBOIN  AXD    ROSAMOND.  35 

Cooled  by  a  passing  gust  of  rain, 
Can  fail  resume  its  deathly  glow. 

Preparing  for  the  fell  assault, 

No  sound,  no  sign,  her  presence  gave  : — 
Like  the  miasma  of  a  vault, 

She  floated  o'er  the  matted  pave : 

Till  every  artifice  bethought, 

Defence,  escape  or  aid  to  foil ; 
The  tall  and  splendid  door  she  sought — 

Its  golden  hinges  dripped  with  oil. 

Shrunk  half  their  size,  her  lurking  imps 
Cross  on  furred  feet  the  darkened  scene; 

The  mirrors  catch  their  creeping  glimpse  ; 
They  pass  the  purple  couch's  screen  : 

King,  warrior,  reveler — there  he  lay — 
Flung  back  like  one  in  battle  slain  ; 

And  steeped  in  crimson  light — a  ray 
Bursting  through  shrouded  oriel  pane. 

Thus  far  they  moved  ;  but  Helmichis 
Convulsive  faltered,  turned  to  speed  :  — 

"Stay!   slay!"   she  gasped  with  cobra  hiss — 
"Or  1  arouse  him  ;  and  ye  bleed  !" 


36  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

They  struck  like  madmen  : — hand  at  hilt, 
He  rose  as  one  no  terrors  quell ; — 

His  sword  is  fastened  by  her  guilt ; 
And  struggling  it  to  draw,  he  fell. 

A  consul's  lofty  altar-tomb 

Far  in  the  park  its  sculptures  hid  ; 

And  there  in  torchless  dark  they  come — 
To  lift  and  close  the  echoing  lid  : 

Within,  the  red  of  crime  prevailed; 

Without,  the  green  of  moss  and  fern  ;  — 
A  soaring  eagle,  arrow-paled, 

Marbled  forever  on  the  urn. 


NATIONS'  affairs  must  yet  proceed 
Be  councils  scattered,  rulers  slain  ; 

The  steeds  of  power  resistless  speed, 
Be  hand  or  not  upon  their  rein. 

Majestic  post — exalted  trust ! — 
To  guide  the  coursers  as  they  fly : 

Surely  the  task  well  quitted  must 
Gain  brightest  recompense  on  high. 


ALRO1N  AND   ROSAMOND. 


37 


O  thoughtless  is  the  choice  they  cast, 

Who  crowd,  uncalled,  that  sphere  of  care — 

Seize  without  God  those  duties  vast, 
His  grace  alone  can  teach  them  bear  ! 

Twelve  days  held  Rosamond  the  sway — 
Her  throne  upraised  in  tumult  wild  : 

Around  its  base  her  Gepidne ; 
Upon  its  stair  her  princess-child. 

Till  closing  in,  like  air  so  dense, 

Dispelled  by  bursting  magazine ; 
The  rallying  chiefs  the  siege  commence  : — 

"  Hurl  from  the  barriers  this  queen  !" 

But  now  the  happy  Po  so  nigh, 

Looks  o'er  his  margin  tendering  aid  ; 

Holding  to  Rosamond,  fain  to  fly, 
Barges  for  former  princes  made  : 

Then  in  the  breezy  gloom  she  sails, 

With  coffered  spoils  and  guardsmen  tried  ; — 

East  till  the  second  morn  unveils 
The  Adrian  estuary  wide. 

The  air  grows  strangely  fresh,  and  lulls 
The  throbbing  nerves ;  the  mirrors  show 


38  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

The  offing  of  blue  mist— the  gulls 
Skimming  across  like  shells  of  snow  ; 

The  headlands  dim  in  distant  parts, 
With  here  and  there  a  sail  to  fleck  ; 

The  pilots,  scattering  with  their  charts, 
Bright  instruments  upon  the  deck. 

Her  own  vexillum,  furled  before, 

Floats  on  the  tall  stem-planted  spear ; 

And  cheering  crew,  with  mast  and  oar, 
Now  southward  for  Ravenna  steer : — 

Stronghold  of  Greco-Roman  hope, 

While  Cimbrian  hoofs  swept  far  the  lands; 

And  Tiber's  bride  was  forced  to  ope 
Her  forum  to  the  spoiler's  hands. 

Behind  its  marshes,  forts  and  sea, 
Young  Honorius  slept  in  down  ; 

When  chastely  gentle,  e'en  as  he, 
His  brother  wore  the  Eastern  crown. 

Here  Stilicho  his  armor  kept ; 

Here  Belisarius  victor  came  ; 
And  Narses  from  a  harem  stept, 

To  change  obscurity  to  fame. 


ALBOIN  A.VD   ROSAMOND. 

Ravenna  slowly  glides  to  view 

Beyond  its  barring  lines  and  mole  : 

The  queen  perplexed  and  fearful  too, 
Scans  from  the  prow  her  only  goal : 

Like  bubble  blown  by  Titan  child, 
A  soaring  dome  presides  o'er  all ; — 

The  vapors  of  the  gulf  and  wild, 
Condensing  on  its  mighty  ball : 

And  smaller,  but  of  equal  craft, 

Loom  at  its  side  a  beauteous  twain — • 

On  many  a  white  pilastered  shaft, 
A  golden  angel  at  each  vane. 

From  marts  replete  with  myriad  wares  ; 

Shipping  and  wheels  and  hammer-blows; 
From  baths  and  camps  and  endless  squares ; 

The  city's  sea-like  murmur  rose. 

On  the  canal's  defended  quay, 

Her  barges  grate  ;   the  gates  divide, 

Ope  up  the  long  perspective  way, 
With  palaces  on  either  side. 

On  a  triumphal  arch's  crest, 

A  warrior  drove  with  whirlwind  speed — 


39 


>  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Six  giant  horses  pranced  abreast ; — 
But  struck  in  bronze  was  every  steed. 

Winged  o'er  a  lofty  pillar's  frieze, 
A  pausing  god  his  footstep  set ; 

And  at  the  founts  the  sundown  breeze 
Blew  rainbow  showers  from  every  jet. 

For  new  frivolity  or  home, 

Leaving  ten  thousand  marble  seats ; 
And  streaming  from  the  hippodrome, 

The  gaudy  peoples  choked  the  streets  : 

Where  Christians  came  from  other  climes, 
There  to  admire,  lavish,  dwell ; 

Where  glory  glossed  the  prince's  crimes; 
And  flowers  hid  the  mouth  of  hell. 

They  sought  the  Baal  of  the  world, 
Were  zealous  but  for  him  alone : 

Vainly  was  priestly  incense  curled — 
The  prayer  addressed,  the  organ  blown  : 

With  them  a  dead  belief  sufficed  ; 

They  sighed  not  for  the  heavenly  rest ; 
They  dreaded  the  reproach  of  Christ — 

Nor  watched  His  coming  with  the  blest. 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

O  patient  Clod  ! — to  sit  controlled, 
While  to  rebellion  mortal  lends 

Thy  very  gifts  of  skill  and  gold, 

Of  health  and  leisure,  youth  and  friends. 

With  brilliant  dress  what  woes  began — 
How  is  the  scorpion,  not  the  dove, 

That  beauty  given  to  soften  man  ; 
And  win  his  heart  to  faithful  love  ! 

His  lustful  eye  God's  wrath  invites  ; 

But  say,  shall  she  by  whom  he's  thralled, 
WThose  needless  elegance  incites — 

O  say,  shall  she  be  guiltless  called  ? 

Then  tremble  vernant  fair  one,  lest 
Your  glance  become  a  poisoned  barb ; 

And  clothe  a  Savior-loving  breast, 
In  sober  hues  and  simple  garb  : 

For  as  the  summer  evening's  gust 
Smites  the  vile  fume  of  earth  away; 

The  lightnings  of  His  vengeance  just, 
Shall  close  the  world's  long,  sultry  day  ! 


2  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Now  far  along  the  thronging  road, 

Her  charioteers  slacked  down  the  strings 

At  Caesar's  gate;  where  then  abode 
Longinus,  exarch,  peer  of  kings. 

The  wary  ruler  all  had  heard  ; 

And  curious  now  to  see  his  guest, 
Impatiently  that  eve  deferred  ; 

But  'twas  his  morning's  first  behest : 

And  soon  the  prayerless  morning  shone ; 

The  sparkling  court  drew  out  array, 
The  aureate  halls  were  open  thrown  ; 

And  flowered  crimson  spread  her  way. 

The  outlines  of  that  wondrous  face 
Anew  in  guileless  mould  were  cast : 

Of  her  ill  deeds  as  free  from  trace 
As  ocean  of  the  tempests  past. 

While  she  advanced  through  light  and  shade, 
Her  eye  of  varying  color  seemed : 

As  grey,  as  sea  blue,  brown,  it  played  ; 
And  then  an  agate  hazel  gleamed. 

In  white,  with  golden  sash  and  hem, 
Her  temples  cool  with  forest  flower ; 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND.  43 

A  mazarine  train — and  over  them 
The  candid  confidence  of  power. 

"  Hail  famous  queen  !  enjoy  thoti  long, 
While  nations  war,  Ravenna's  peace — 

Siege-proof  and  splendor-built ;   with  triremes 

strong, 
And  arms  of  Asia,  Thrace  and  Greece  !" 

Then  flashed  her  smile — the  light  that  rays 
From  whirling  wheels  of  chariot  cars  : 

Her  blush  the  deepening  hue  that  plays 
Athwart  the  twinkling  disc  of  Mars : 

And  her  weird  eye,  with  lustre  filled, 

O'er  Longinus  potential  roved  ; 
For  ere  he  spake  his  blood  was  thrilled ; 

And  ere  he  ceased  the  exarch  loved. 

Soon  from  the  palace  depths  her  spell 

Upbreathes  to  sway  the  counciled  throne ; 

Her  features  in  new  frescoes  dwell, 
Are  in  remoulded  bronzes  shown. 

An  emperor  made  Ravenna  grand  ; 

But  were  Honorius  reigning  then, 
His  passive  soul  had  burst  command  ; 

And  he  had  loved  like  other  men  ! 


44 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 


DEATH  hovers  always  near  to  love ; 

And  every  curse  seeks  ambush  there : 
As  gaudiest  Bengal  arbors  prove 

The  fever's,  cobra's,  tiger's  lair. 

Let  man  deny  himself;  for  our 
Exemplar  self-denying  came ; 

Nor,  mad  to  gain  lost  Eden's  bower, 
Rush  on  the  angel's  sword  of  flame. 

While  sensual  Peredeus  sips 

Each  courtly  joy  with  reckless  zest ; 
Above  a  fountain's  marble  lips, 

Helmichis  droops  a  scowling  crest. 

She  marked  his  jealous  wrath  ;  forecast 
Peril  from  tool  grown  useless  now ; 

Hindrance  to  hopes  new  opening  vast, 
Like  seas  to  the  explorer's  prow. 

Oft  brought  she  when  from  baths  he  stept, 

Urns  of  reviving  nectar  full ; 
And,  fanned  with  smiles,  suspicion  slept, 

As  one  whom  wings  of  vampyre  lull. 

So  once  when  drinking  gaily  here, 
His  ears  in  dreadful  tocsin  sang — 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 


45 


His    breath   closed    short  —  the   truth   flashed 

clear — 
Despair  o'erruled  his  mortal  pang: 

Dying,  he  hurled  her  to  the  wall — 

He  tore  apart  her  tight-set  teeth  ; 
And  down  her  gasping  throat  made  all 

The  chalice's  remainder  seethe  : 

Death  swelled  her  veins ;  she  sped  her  track 
Stifled  with  horrors  of  the  tomb — 

Her  guilty  brow  with  poison  black, 

She  reached  the  crowded  presence-room. 

The  exarch  started  from  his  throne, 

Swept  down  the  lictored  steps  of  pride, 

Dashed  through  the  breathless  hall  alone ; 
And  in  his  frantic  arms  she  died. 


SHIPPKD  for  Byzantium  all  her  spoils, 
Her  princess-child,  her  guards  and  he, 

The  Lombard  victim  of  her  toils  ; 
Sailed  down  the  Adriatic  sea. 


46  ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND. 

Round  Grecian  capes  their  canvas  swells ; 

They  thread  vEgean  isles  and  foam, 
They  pass  the  swarming  Dardanelles  ; 

And  kneel  'neath  St.  Sophia's  dome. 

The  heiress-girl  in  convent  died  ; 

And  Peredeus,  Samson-thewed, 
With  the  arena's  champions  vied, 

Till  prince  and  court  with  terror  viewed. 

They  blinded  him — lest  hap  perchance 
He'd  rise  and  seize  on  power  supreme; 

And  pricked  by  servile,  Syrian  lance, 
He  dug  the  channel  of  a  stream. 

Cast  out  in  age,  with  earning  lyre, 
He  sang  to  those  of  legends  fond, 

That  tale  of  battle,  love  and  ire — 
Of  Alboin  and  of  Rosamond. 


THE  tale  another's  theme  became — 
Once  more  by  modest  minstrel  tried  ;  • 

And  still  the  hearers  are  the  same, 
Though  centuries  and  seas  divide  : — 


ALfiOLV  AND   ROSAMOND. 

The  proud  course  on  with  careless  brow  ; 

And  Christians,  still,  them  homage  give ; 
Few,  few  the  searching  voice  allow — 

"  Is  the  world  holier  that  I  live?" 

Some  curse  the  rising  sun  ;   and  try 
To  take  the  world  to  night  agen  ; 

Or  see  with  a  complacent  eye, 
The  inequalities  of  men. 

Haste  on,  O  God,  the  great  Release — 
Of  all  earth's  hopes  the  only  sure; 

For  all  its  wars  the  only  peace ; 
For  all  its  woes  the  only  cure  : 

Give  saints  the  land  whose  light  they  court- 
Their  perfect  praise  will  sooner  soar : 

Cut  the  vain  lives  of  bad  men  short — 
They'll  have  the  less  to  answer  for. 

Haste  on,  O  God,  the  great  Redress — 
Let  Satan  in  the  pit  be  hurled  ; 

And  cast  into  Thy  streaming  press, 
The  mighty  vintage  of  the  world  ! 

FINIS 

A.    AND   R. 


47 


RURAL    LEISURE. 


A  SYLVAN  dame  with  face  of  tan, 
Hails  me,  the  travel-tarnished  man  ; 

And  I  shall  be  her  guest. 
A  larger  log  is  on  her  fire ; 
And  on  the  bed  when  I  retire, 

Fresh  linen  from  her  chest. 

Enlivening  are  her  artless  words  ; 
Diversions  all  her  place  affords, 

She  urges  me  receive  : 
The  horse,  the  gun,  the  boat  I  choose : 
These  shall  my  holidays  amuse — 

My  morning,  noon  and  eve. 

Dear  friend  I'm  thirsting — and  you  fill 
From  dairy  can  and  orchard  still, 
Your  calices  of  wood  : 

(48) 


RURAL    LEISURE. 


49 


Dear  friend  I'm  hungering — and  you  take 
Your  pantry's  sauce,  your  barrel's  cake, 
And  finest  of  your  brood. 

But  other  fare  I  mean  and  need  : 
In  dovecote  homes  what  can  exceed 

The  joy  of  tranquil  men  ? 
Hope,  wisdom,  rest — my  spirit  teach 
To  look  to  God  alone  for  each ; 

And  I  grow  cheerful  then. 

O  with  my  Savior's  love  and  thine, 
Why  should  I  for  another's  pine, 

In  these  unthankful  bask  ? 
Another's  love  I  toil  to  gain  ; 
But  these  come  like  the  summer's  rain — 

Acceptance  only  ask  ! 


MY  sprightly  bay,  with  zest  and  pride, 
I  daily  haste  to  groom  and  ride: 
Flushing  with  ardor  from  his  grain, 
He  longs  for  sunshine,  road  and  rein. 
He's  for  my  summer  pastime  lent ; 
And  with  my  corn  and  blades  content : 
4 


RURAL   LEISURE. 

•Willing  to  traverse  far  for  these, 
And  speed  where'er  I  guide  or  please : — 
The  morning  jaunt,  the  sportful  chase, 
Umbrageous  lane  or  country  race. 

At  daybreak  on  the  road  he  serves, 
In  easy  amble  round  its  curves ; 
Meeting  while  yet  the  sky  is  dark, 
The  teamster  with  his  load  of  bark 
Or  staves  or  wood — a  compact  heap 
Brought  far  to  be  disposed  of  cheap. 
The  man  (who  walks)  looks  hard  at  me ; 
And  would  not  know  me  could  he  see ; 
Yet  still  he  eyes  intently  ; — but 
Down  goes  his  wheel  in  sunken  rut. 

And  now  we  have  a  scene  of  trouble  : 
The  oxen  strain  with  vigor  double, 
The  single  horse  that  heads  the  team, 
Tugs  and  exerts  till  in  a  steam. 
But  no  !  the  cumbrous  burden  bides ; 
And  as  to  aggravate  besides, 
Come  jug  and  dinner  from  the  top, 
Breaking  and  wasting  as  they  drop  : 
He  plies  his  shoulder,  tears  his  clothes ; 
And  falls  back  in  a  storm  of  oaths. 


RURAL   LEISURE. 

At  once  I  offer  all  I  can — 
My  horse  to  pacify  the  man  : 
Spare  collar,  swingle-tree  and  chains, 
He  gratefully  adjusts  with  pains ; 
Then  pushes  with  his  utmost  strength, 
While  I  dispense  the  lash's  length : 
The  vexing  forewheel  now  we  start ; 
And  with  momentum  we  impart, 
The  hinder  safely  follows  slow ; 
Then,  freeing  horse,  I  mount  and  go. 

Meanwhile  the  objects  of  the  land 
Come  into  view  on  every  hand ; 
Extinguished  is  the  farmer's  light 
That  made  his  window  beacon  night. 
With  sun-forerunning  tints  subdued, 
The  sky  is  silently  imbued  ; 
While  tree  and  house  and  chimney  trace 
Their  profiled  outlines  on  its  base ; 
And  countless  plants  exhale  anew 
The  subtle  fragrancies  of  dew. 

An  osprey's  nest  for  many  a  year, 
Has  been  familiar  landmark  here ; 
Held  high  from  scrutiny  and  harm 
In  an  old  poplar's  withered  arm. 


51 


RURAL   LEISURE. 

The  bird  arouses  while  I  gaze, 
His  wing  in  spiral,  flight  essays  ; 
Circling  at  lofty  poise  he  floats, 
And  on  the  atlased  township  gloats ; 
Then  plunges  to  his  roofless  house, 
And  nestles  by  his  watching  spouse. 

The  carpets  of  the  household  loom 
Adorn  the  wayside  tenant's  room  ; 
And  through  his  doorway  and  his  vine, 
I  see  his  furniture  of  pine  ; 
His  gun,  with  dingy  tube  and  breech, 
Swung  up  above  his  urchins'  reach  : 
The  mantel  shelving  trimly  looks, 
Laden  with  fan  and  clock  and  books ; 
While  his  poor  wife  rubs  up  with  care, 
The  lately  sullied  breakfast  ware. 

And  in  the  corner  is  the  bed, 
With  laceless  pillows  at  its  head  ; 
And  gay  with  quilt  composed  perhaps 
Of  half  an  age's  treasured  scraps. 
The  trundle  that  on  casters  rolls, 
Receives  at  night  the  little  souls  ; 
While  overhead  the  rumbling  feet 
Betray  the  larger  boys'  retreat : 


RURAL   LEISURE.  53 

That  narrow  roof  of  lowly  comb 
Shields,  after  all,  a  cherished  home. 

Three  wagons  bring  a  picnic  troop, 
Each  with  its  closely-seated  group ; 
Going  in  all  their  country  pomp, 
To  gather  berries,  climb  and  romp. 
There  glisten  collar,  coat  and  belt, 
The  ribboned  hats  of  straw  and  felt, 
The  manto,  parasol  and  hood, 
White-napkined  stores  of  dainty  food  ; 
And  on  before  them  jubilant, 
The  guiding  negroes  dance  and  chant. 

Then  by  the  neighboring  coast  again, 
I  mark  the  fishers  draw  their  seine ; 
Drag  up  the  shore  the  struggling  mass, 
And  then  the  prizes  sort  and  class : 
At  leisure  view  and  value  each, 
Casting  the  tiny  round  the  beach. 
Poor  innocents  !   they  writhe  and  die — • 
Sand  in  the  scale  and  in  the  eye; 
While  with  their  sullen  oxen  brown, 
The  vending  carters  seek  the  town. 


54 


RURAL   LEISURE. 

WHEN  from  the  ships  so  long  immuring, 

I  flee  and  scent  the  forest  dews ; 
Upon  my  arm  my  gun  securing, 

I  lonely  saunter,  idly  muse. 
I  think  again  of  fancies  airy, 

Of  states  of  life  for  which  I've  yearned; 
While  from  my  lips  involuntary, 

Come  the  old  woodland  rhymes  I've  learned. 

Here  is  a  bridge  whose  warping  sleepers 

The  hasty  chopper  flung  across  ; 
And  near  it  unsupported  creepers 

Gushing  their  blossoms  on  the  moss. 
No  more  in  reverie  delaying, 

My  falcon-hunting  course  I  take ; 
And  whistling  back  my  dog  from  straying, 

Press  on  through  undergrowth  and  brake. 


IN  the  dank  recess  of  the  dell, 
The  centred  rills  their  waters  swell ; 
Then  threading  on  through  aider  gate, 
The  basin  daily  renovate  : 
Their  happy  purling  broke  alone 
By  the  crow's  distant  monotone. 


A'  URA  L    LEIS  URE. 

Here  crowd  the  shrubs  of  dampness  fond, 

And  floating  dock  leaves  pave  the  pond  ; 

The  jay  and  redbird  build  the  nest, 

As  sure  no  peril  will  molest ; 

For  quite  too  low  for  tearing  squall, 

Too  dull  to  tempt  the  rustic's  call, 

Too  hidden  for  migrating  duck 

His  swarm  to  halt  its  herbs  to  pluck ; 

This  lakelet  through  the  summers  will 

Abide  unvisited  and  still. 

But  when  the  pirate  falcon  made 
His  haunt  of  this  secluded  glade, 
Alarm  the  warbling  tenants  took, 
And  fled  the  devastated  nook. 
On  an  elm's  shaggy  bough  halfway, 
He  wove  his  fagots,  grass  and  clay : 
His  ambuscade  the  foliage  wreath, 
His  castle-moat  the  pool  beneath  ; 
While  up  the  moisture-dripping  stock, 
Abattis  vines  their  thorns  enlock: 
Secure  the  proud  marauder  seems, 
And  peals  elate  his  taunting  screams. 

In  truth  he  is  a  princely  bird  ! 
A  nimbler  wing  was  never  stirred, 


55 


5  6  RURAL    LEISURE. 

Acuter  eye  ne'er  searched  the  plain, 
Nor  sharper  talon  pierced  the  brain  : 
With  dark-blue  plumage,  speckled  breast, 
Long  caudal  quills  and  flattened  crest, 
A  spur-won  knight  of  bravest  port, 
At  old  king  Eagle's  forest  court. 
Not  high  gyrating  ere  he  stoop, 
He  meditates  the  fatal  swoop, 
While  his  bale  shadow  'gins  to  warn 
And  chicks  fly  under  house  or  barn  ; 
But  skimming  low  he  smites  his  food 
From  out  some  unsuspecting  brood, 
Ere  lazy  cock  can  sound  alarm, 
Or  gunning  boy  prevent  the  harm. 
The  remnant  scatter ;  and  the  bird 
Feasts  in  the  grass,  unseen,  unheard, 
Till  drips  from  off  his  rounded  beak 
The  last  blood-drop  his  rage  can  eke  : 
Then  hieing  to  his  guarded  nest, 
Enjoys  the  rapined  meal  digest ; 
And  on  the  eggs  all  rough  and  blotch, 
While  speeds  his  mate,  keeps  warmth  and 
watch. 

The  months  depart ;  and  winter  beats 
Into  the  old  abandoned  seats  : 


RURAL   LEISURE. 

The  falcon-barons  all  have  flown, 
Chasing  the  flocks  to  milder  zone. 
They  riot ;  and  with  heavy  wing, 
Their  northern  castles  seek  in  spring. 

My  lanneret  is  bleeding  now  ! 
Shot  down  from  off  his  lofty  bough ; 
But  ere  he  yields  to  pain  and  dies, 
Throws  wide  his  iris  and  defies. 
Poor  bird  !  we  thy  fell  skill  condemn ; 
But  laud  the  same  when  seen  in  men  : 
The  diadem  by  havoc  won, 
With  glory  cinctures  sire  and  son. 


57 


FOR  new  pastime  I'm  ready: 

Let  my  yacht  be  the  boon ; 
Have  the  gale  mild  and  steady, 

And  the  time  afternoon. 
As  glad  as  the  springbok 

On  his  broad  desert  ground, 
Casting  off  from  the  ringblock 

I  course  the  blue  sound. 


58  RURAL   LEISURE. 

As  onward  she  verges 

What  harmony  now ! 
For  the  music  of  surges 

Is  under  the  prow : 
And  buoyant,  delicious, 

The  snowy  clouds  are ; 
And  the  storm  unpropitious 

Is  absent  and  far. 

The  food-seeking  plover 

Darts  by  as  I  go ; 
The  ospray  pair  hover, 

The  trout  frisks  below ; 
The  headlands  sand-bleaching, 

Recede  on  the  lee ; 
For  swiftly  I'm  reaching 

The  inlet  and  sea. 

We  come  on  like  the  arrow  ! 
I  dextrously  steer : 

Here  'tis  shallow,  there  narrow- 
Hurrah  ! — and  we're  clear. 

Now  the  sea  wind  romantic 
Strains  tenser  my  sail ; 

And  laves  the  Atlantic 
My  dipping  gunwale. 


RURAL    LEISURE. 

Belling  me  paraded 

The  corn-harvests  stand  ; 
And  bosky  and  faded 

The  marshes  expand ; 
While  the  cape's  yellow  margin 

Is  seen  o'er  the  spume  ; 
And  before  me  enlarging, 

The  merchantmen  loom. 

Some  outwardly  bearing, 
*  Taut,  tidy  and  strong  ; 
Some  scathed  with  the  wearing 

Of  voyages  long ; 
And  o'er  the  way  watered, 

The  figureheads  weep, 
For  the  drowned  and  the  slaughtered, 

With  the  spray  of  the  deep. 

The  eye  of  Henlopen 

Two  leagues  to  fhe  north, 
Day-closed,  now  is  open, 

And  radiates  forth  : 
Sad  shades  gain  existence 

The  ocean  to  rim  ; 
And  the  ships  of  the  distance 

In  vapor  are  dim. 


59 


60  RURAL   LEISURE. 

But  still  in  sport  venial 

My  flight  I  maintain  : 
The  eve  is  so  genial, 

And  morrows  bring  rain. 
As  the  amateur  skater 

Will  gambol  on  steel, 
The  young  navigator 

Delights  on  his  keel. 

Now  out  peeps  the  starlet, 

The  crescent  half  shines, 
The  sunset's  last  scarlet 

Is  streaking  the  pines. 
Wearing  round  and  retracing, 

I  the  miles  slower  run  ; 
For  the  gale  fresh  and  bracing, 

Has  gone  down  with  the  sun. 

And  when  the  sail  slacking, 

Is  furled  and-  fast ; 
Performed  all  its  tacking, 

And  home  is  at  last ; — 
Then  for  banquet  and  slipper, 

For  hearth  and  for  glee  ; 
And  dreams  of  my  clipper, 

The  sound  and  the  sea  ! 


ODES. 


ODE    i. 

COULD  I  a  noble  epic  pen, 

Well  fit  to  win  the  world's  applause, 
To  you  I  would  submit  it, — then 

If  need  be,  to  the  furnace  jaws. 

I  would  not  mourn  my  fruitless  pains, 
If  only  you  had  read  each  word  ; 

Nor  deem  composed  for  naught  the  strains, 
If  only  you  approving  heard  ! 

ODE    2. 

FAIR  songstress  !  soon  you  will  have  read 
A  stranger's  lines  ;  who  sought  this  scene 

Upon  a  conquering  army's  tread  : 
Of  lowly  rank  and  homely  mien. 

He  joys  in  psalmody  of  old, 
Admires  its  dulcet  rendering ; 

(61) 


62  ODES. 

And  to  the  capable  is  bold, 
As  now,  in  homage  tendering. 

4 

Your  home  and  virtues,  race  and  lot, 
Are  all  unknown — your  very  name  : 

With  him,  howe'er,  it  matters  not — 

You  have  his  love  and  prayers  the  same. 

No  hope  is  his  to  enter  free 

Your  presence  bland,  and  call  you  friend : 
So  undesirable  is  he, — 

Know  him,  your  interest  will  end. 

But  this  he  trusts — your  choral  arts 
From  holy  motives  all  proceed  ; 

The  chants  you  warble  be  your  heart's, 
And  that  you  sing  God's  praise  indeed. 

Your  face,  your  grace,  your  voice,  are  dower 
Well  worthy  gratitude  :   O  then 

Adore  that  God  who  gave  you  power 
To  charm  with  these  the  souls  of  men  ! 


ODES. 


ODE  3. 

STROLLING  I  noticed  an  abandoned  gun, 
Its  breech  and  trunnions  bedded  in  the  loam  : 
The  sod  was  sprouting  o'er  that  grisly  ton 
Corroding  in  the  elements ;  its  chamber  erst 
Death  harbored  in,  and  whence  he  burst, 
Like  Coliseum  lion,  now  the  insect's  home  : 
The  sparrow  sought  a  building-site  to  win  ; 
And,  chirping  round  the  muzzle,  peeped  within. 

I  had  indifferent  passed  the  object  by — 
But  in  the  circle  of  its  silent  mouth, 
A  flower  fastened  my  discursive  eye  ! 
Pleasing  it  was;  and  all  the  more  so  there, 
Without  the  rivalry  of  a  parterre  : 
No  gardener's  sprinkle  cherished  it  from  drouth; 
It  drew  its  blue  from  mould  and  moisture  scant; 
For  God  will  nurse  and  keep  as  well  as  plant. 

It  seemed,  I  thought,  a  shadowy  type  of  her 
Who  is  to  me  this  castle's  only  lure  : 
In  calm  seclusion  blooming,  as  it  were, 
Within  the  jaws  of  war ;  her  gentle  grace 


64  ODES. 

The  more  observable  in  such  a  place : 
But  peace  assures  : — at  its  afflatus  pure 
A  thousand  reconciled  extremes  abound  ; 
And  the  lambs  frisk  upon  the  battery's  mound. 

Yet,  as  the  flower  I  could  not  pluck,  nor 

long 

Delay  to  contemplate, — so  'tis  with  thee  ! 
My  interest  is  passive,  howe'er  strong : 
For  I've  renounced  society's  delights  ; 
But  thee  to  me  a  heavenly  tie  unites, 
More  durable  than  earth's  affinity:  — 
My  twin  believer  ! — Christ  by  both  adored — 
Co-heir  of  hope — my  sister  in  the  Lord  ! 


-  ODE  4- 

DARE  custom  primly  bar, 

Because  a  wife  you  are, 
My  eulogy? — at  censorship  I  smile: 

Lady  !  I'm  ravished  quite  ; 

But  mine's  a  guileless  sight, 
In  roaming  round  this  harmful  world  the  while. 


ODES.  65 

As  ranged  o'er  valley  great 

With  many  a  hedged  estate, 
The  pilgrim's  orb  claims  each,  the  nonce,  its  own; 

Esthetic  none  the  less 

Than  if  I  did  possess, 
I  prize  all  excellencies  seen  or  known. 

For  human  beauty  true, 

And  nature's  splendors  too, 
Are  adumbrations  of  my  God  above  ; — 

His  witnessmgs,  though  dim, 

That  glory  may  to  Him 
Ascend  from  those  who  e'er  admire  or  love. 

Men  might  not  sink  so  low, 

Did  woman  alway  show 
That  folly  her  incensement  would  ensure ; 

Nor  license  so  entice, 

Were  the  penalty  of  vice 
Exclusion  from  the  beauteous  and  the  pure. 

I  know  naught  of  your  past, 

Save  that  you  must  have  cast 
A  radiance  sweeter  still — could  such  one  sec; 

And  soon  I  leave  this  spot, 

To  mark  your  future  not ; — 
The  present  picture  shall  my  memory's  be. 
5 


66  ODES. 

But,  lady,  I'll  allow 

One  cause  I  laud  you,  now : — 

You  image  her  whose  hand  I  long  to  sue  ! 
Unnumbered  leagues  away — 
She  is  with  me  on  the  day 

When  I  my  courted  vision  have  of  you  ! 


ODE  5. 

As  long  as  earth  supplies  her  ores, 
Cast  them,  O  artisan,  in  bells  ! 

And,  mason,  while  the  rock  is  yours, 
Erect  the  tower  where  rapture  dwells  ; 

And  through  its  mullioned  windows  pours 
Far  floating  peals  and  chants  and  knells  ! 

It  was  an  abbey's  chimes  so  deep, 

Rolling  on  Neustria's  blast ; 
That  broke  her  conquering  William's  sleep, 

His  dying  and  his  last ; 
And  'mid  their  wild  melodious  sweep, 

His  warlike  spirit  passed. 

On  what  events  before  and  since, 
In  various  lands  the  bell  has  rung  ! 


ODES.  67 

And  there  have  been  the  great — the  prince, 
Remembered  but  through  bells  they  hung  : 

A  Schiller,  as  memoirs  evince, 

Remembered  by  The  Bell  he  sung. 

But  precious  were  those  tones  to  me 

Which  drew  you  from  your  father's  hall : 

My  weekly  glimpse  of  you,  fair  E , 

Depended  on  their  Sabbath  call ; 

As  sad  I  hovered — you  to  see — 
Along  the  church's  ivied  wall  ! 


ODE  6. 

FROM  social  conversation  flown 
To  nurse  a  morbid  grief  alone, 
I  thought,  from  love  and  hope  exempt, 
Nothing  remained  return  to  tempt ; 
But  some  whom  I  at  times  have  met, 
Make  me  reflect  if  not  regret ; 
Cause  me  to  think  my  course  is  not 
(As  deemed)  a  God-appointed  lot; — 
And  'neath  the  moving  glance  of  those, 
Question  the  banishment  I  chose. 


68  ODES. 

And  you  are  one  ! — but  how  or  why? 
Perhaps  concernment  in  your  eye 
I  read  ;  or  felt  myself  and  mood 
By  intuition  understood  ; 
And  grateful  for  such  kindness  shown, 
The  freer  did  your  merit  own  ; — 
Or  by  some  sympathy  divined 
The  touch  of  a  superior  mind  : 
Howe'er  it  be,  the  tale  no  less 
Of  admiration  I  confess. 

Your  classic  face  is  cherished  now, — 
Revered — as  is  a  royal  brow  : — 
A  mould  too  noble,  unknown  maid, 
From  my  delighted  mind  to  fade  ; 
A  cast  unmarred  by  passion  rash, 
Frivolity's  debasing  flash, 
Deception's  artifice; — for  truth 
Seems  to  enhance  your  brilliant  youth  : 
Your  countenance  my  criterion  stays, 
By  which  all  others  to  condemn  or  praise. 

But  why  should  I  your  presence  dare, 
For  transitory  rapture  there? 
Soon  you  depart — and  I  am  more 
Unblest,  unhappy  than  before. 


ODES. 

Parting  my  patience  so  transcends, 
I  have  to  shun  the  joys  it  ends  ; 
And  tread  my  sombre  path  of  loss, 
Accepting  exile  as  my  cross. 
Some  brighter  destiny  is  thine  : 
Then  follow  it — I  follow  mine  ! 


69 


ODE  7. 

A  UKAUTY  on  a  frosty  morn 
Strolled  outward  for  a  walk  ; 

Met  a  poor,  shivering  lad  forlorn  ; 
And  deigned  with  him  to  talk. 

The  boy  looked  up— her  sympathy 
Had  all  his  pain  beguiled  : 

"Am  I  not  cold?  you  ask  "—said  he- 
"  I  was,  until  you  smiled  !" 


7o 


ODES. 


ODE  8. 

UPON  the  ocean  I  would  live  and  die ; 

I  would  not  part  with  it  for  beauty's  hand  : 
There  freedom  rides  health-teeming  gales ;  and  I 

Leave  gloom  and  idleness  upon  the  land. 
The  vastness  satisfies  my  restless  soul ; 

With    many   scenes    my    heart    and    thoughts 

expand ; 

With  God  so  near  no  creature  need  condole ; 
And  human  idols  cease  their  fell  control. 

Soon  I'm  to  hide  behind  its  mist  and  mile; 

In  the  manned  cutter  off  again  to  shove : 
Adventure  in  some  foreign  realm  or  isle, 

May  dim  to  soberness  the  tints  of  love. 
But  as  the  mighty  plays  of  time  unfold  ; 

And  death  and  change  and  angels,  good  and 

vile, 

Fight  o'er  the  world, — I  yearn  still  to  behold 
Joy's  chaplet  lustrous  round  your  tress  of  gold. 


ODES.  1 1 

Affecting  presence  ! — that  of  naiad,  elf, 

Or  king,  I  fancy  aweless  ; — this  almost  divine  ; 

For  having  no  infirmities  yourself, 

How  can  you  feel  a  charity  for  mine? 

I've  met  unflinchingly  death's  chilly  stare; 
But  falter  under  yours  without  design : 

Distrust  of  what  my  destiny  may  bear, 

Comes  on  to  prompt  my  proneness  to  despair. 

Indifference  the  wily  suitor  feigns  ; 

At  ease  he  sets  your  apprehensive  eye  ; 
He   shows — whate'er   the  flame    his   breast   con 
tains — 

Only  as  much  as  he  can  profit  by. 
Spite  woman's  vaunted  shrewdness  and  what  not, 

She  rarely  foils  the  worldly  courtier's  pains. 
I  know  all  this ;  but  who  slacks  to  a  trot 
His  rein,  when  folly's  steeple-chase  is  hot? 

It  may  not  pleasure  you  or  yours  to  make 
Disclosure  thus,  and  choose  so  warm  a  tone ; 

But  for  relief  I  must  my  offering  take, 
And  lay  it  down  at  your  ideal  throne. 

Proud  girl !  you  shall  know  all,  for  candor's  sake: 
I  cannot  be  at  peace  my  worship  still  unknown: 


•j2  ODES. 

At  every  hazard,  every  risk,  I'll  prate ; 
And  dare  all  odds  for  loveliness  so  great. 

At  various  place  the  comely  and  refined 

Gave  me  their  welcome ;  but  my  heart  as  now 

Owned  you  its  primal  impulse — your  high  mind, 
Your  peerless  form  and  etiolated  brow. 

Think  me  not  recreant,  inconstant  too, 
Accepting  solace  absence  would  allow  ; 

That  chancing  your  faint  semblances  to  view, 

I  caught  at  them  as  imagery  of  you. 

In  sighs  upon  the  faded  little  day 

In  which  'twas  mine  to  know  you,  ends  my  ode 
But  that  shall  be  to  me  when  far  away, 

Of  all  my  memories  dearest  episode  : 
Your  picture  in  my  mind  the  treasured  one, 

With  that  grand  hill  befitting  your  abode ; 
And  its  flecked  valley  spread  in  cloudless  sun, — 
Meet  scene  for  eyes  like  yours  to  rest  upon  ! 


ODES. 


73 


ODE    9. 

WHEN  passing  near  an  ancient  tree, 

I  sometimes  quit  the  way, 
To  claim  what  blessing  there  may  be 

Thereon  my  hand  to  lay. 

And  when  the  shoremen  draw  the  net, 
And  ply  the  string  and  knife ; 

I  love  to  buy  some  struggling  pet, 
And  fling  it  back  to  life. 

I  love  to  stroke  the  roadside  beast, 

Whose  orbs  inquire  why  : 
Would  that  he  were  from  toil  released ; 

Would  that  he  were  as  I. 

O  would  that  all  despised,  oppressed, 

All  ignorant  and  poor, 
Become  the  equals  of  the  best ; 

And  enter  heaven's  door: 


74 


ODES. 

Equals  in  lore  and  virtue — meet 
To  walk  with  the  refined ; 

Equals,  not  in  their  own  conceit, 
But  gesture,  heart  and  mind. 

In  this  lost  world  of  ours,  then, 
Let  each  that  good  devise : 

The  lover  of  his  fellow-men 
Delights  to  help  them  rise. 

He  sullen  caste  must  needful  call; 

But  needful  evil  'tis  : 
He  would  not  to  vile  levels  fall ; 

But  lift  them  thence  to  his. 

O  Freedom !  in  thy  zenith  beam 

My  soul  forever  feasts  ; 
And  musing  on  thy  higher  theme 

I've  left  the  trees  and  beasts. 

The  beauty  of  the  Godhead  lurks 

In  these,  however  dim  ; 
And  pleasure  in  His  humbler  works, 

Is  pleasure  found  in  Him. 


ODES.  75 


ODE    10. 

You  smile  on  me  ! — perhaps  if  I  should  ask 
To  be  made  known  to  you,  decorum's  doors  would 

ope; 

And  at  your  side  I'd  be  the  chatting  friend  : — 
Looking  aloof  with  a  complacent  pity, 
At  those  with  lots  or  intellects  so  mean  and  low 
And  so  debased,  they  be  perforce  denied 
Your  blest  society  for  aye.     Then  were  I  struck 
With  want  or  woe  or  death,  I'd  have  a  claim 
Upon  your  thoughts  and  sympathy  ;  and  'mid  your 

pleasures, 

The  heart  and  time  might  come  to  speak  of  me. 
But  I'll  forego  all  this — surrender  all — 
For  the  delicious  dream  of  thinking  you  immortal ! 
Still  let  your  hazel  eye,  replete  with  mysteries, 
Shoot  its  far  glance  at  mine  ;  your  o'erheard  voice 
Move  me  as  would  a  monarch's;  and  the  walks, 
Where  you  have  been  in  flower-encircled  hat 
And  garb  of  white  with  sea-blue  hem,  be,  by 
Your  loitering  there,  forever  hallowed  ;  and  your 

presence 

To  me  as  awful  as  a  lonely  forest  nook 
Illumined  by  the  summer  moon  at  midnight  ! 


76  ODES. 


ODE    ii. 

THERE  is  a  gallery  of  portraits  rare 
Within  my  memory,  to  which  I  oft  repair 
In  lone  reflection. 

These  are  the  etchings  of  the  perfect  few 
Whom  I  have  met ;  who  from  my  spirit  drew 
Praise  or  affection. 

Within  that  gallery  there  is  a  niche, 
Which  tracery  of  you  shall  soon  enrich ; — 
Sweet,  latest  Recollection ! 


THE   BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 


THE  morning  fog  is  clearing  now:  — 
"A  sail  upon  the  starboard  bow  !" 
The  eagled  youths  who  idling  pass, 
Consult  the  quartermaster's  glass  ; 
Up  springs  the  officer-of-the-deck  ; 
The  message  boy  speeds  at  his  beck, 
To  where  the  Captain  in  the  stem 
Awaits  such  merry  news  to  learn. 
The  gunboat  to  the  point  is  brought, 
The  aiding  sails  are  sheeted  taut, 
The  red-mouthed  funnels  windward  set, 
The  firemen  at  the  furnace  sweat ; 
Roundly  the  quickened  paddle  spins ; 
And  with  a  cheer  the  chase  begins. 

The  stranger  marks  afar  the  scheme  ; 
And  likewise  crowds  his  sail  and  steam : 
The  bree/e  is  faint ;   but  canvas  spread 
May  drive  the  ship  a  knot  ahead. 

(77) 


THE  BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 

The  double  stacks  begrime  and  choke ; 
Disgorging  streams  of  gloomy  smoke, 
Which  rising  in  the  sultry  air, 
Form  ebon  clouds  that  dally  there  : 
And  plainly  to  the  most  unskilled 
Appears  the  vessel's  British  build  : — 
Long,  low  and  narrow,  wheels  aside, 
Brig-rigged,  and  made  upon  the  Clyde ; 
The  fore-peak  housed,  a  taffrail  staff 
For  flags  which  elsewhere  climb  the  gaff; 
The  masts  and  chimneys  raking  back  ; 
The  hull  daubed  grey  instead  of  black:— 
To  run  unseen  at  dawn  and  eve, 
Or  by  that  Federal  hue  deceive. 

And  gradual  as  the  noontide  wanes, 
The  active  cruiser  toils  and  gains ; 
For  hours  along  the  sunny  deeps 
She  quivers  on  with  willing  leaps ; 
While  o'er  the  stubborn  shafts  supreme, 
Dances  the  glittering  walking-beam  ; 
As  tossing  high  its  burnished  cups, 
From  which  each  joint  its  oiling  sups  ; 
And  faithful  plying,  void  of  noise, 
It  oscillates  on  graceful  poise. 
The  sails  they  wet,  the  ballast  shift, 
To  trim  for  steady  flight  more  swift ; 


79 

And  hoisted  from  the  lower  hold, 
Tierces  of  pork  are  nimbly  rolled, — 
Torn  from  its  crashing  staves  and  tires, 
Hurled  sputtering  in  the  furnace  fires. 
Man  after  man  no  longer  copes 
With  that  fierce  heat, — drawn  up  by  ropes, 
And  stretched  on  deck  but  half  alive, 
Water  is  dashed,  them  to  revive  : 
All  are  exhausted  by  the  blaze  : — 
Seamen  must  come  and  work  relays. 

"  Stand  by  your  forward  rifled  gun — 
Blank  cartridge  first,  but  only  one  !" 
With  puff  and  flame  the  roar  rings  out, 
Nor  puts  the  fugitive  about : 
Then  earnest  fire — ball  after  ball — 
Wide  of  the  mark  or  short  are  all ; 
But  still  the  space  is  narrowing  down  :  — 
"  We'll  have  him  yet !"  shouts  Captain  Town. 

But  now  a  scene  surmised  before  ; — - 
The  stranger  heaves  his  cargo  o'er: 
His  iron  hull  is  laden  deep 
With  stores  he  finds  he  cannot  keep. 
Off  float  the  boxes  and  the  bales; 
But  even  this  expedient  fails  : 


8o  THE   BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 

The  lightened  ship  has  much  o'erthrown, 
And  still  she  cannot  hold  her  own  : 
Straight  onward,  as  though  not  to  choose 
To  right  or  left  an  inch  to  lose, 
While  the  sea  after  spuming  churns, 
A  furlong  more  the  cruiser  earns. 
The  sailors  cast  their  gloating  eyes 
Upon  the  drifting  merchandise  ; 
Then  follow  fagot,  plank  and  bar, — 
Tossed  out  the  chaser's  wheels  to  mar: 
Meanwhile  the  breezes  freshening  come  : 
The  hunted  rogue  has  hope  therefrom. 

He  scans  his  foe's  light-drafted  bulk, 
And  her  extended  breadth  of  hulk, 
The  broad  wheel-houses,  that  retard 
Advancing  when  headwinds  are  hard  ; 
While  his  own  ship,  so  sharp,  he  knows 
Can  readier  pierce  as  gales  oppose. 
Adroitly  acting  on  the  thought, 
His  steamer  to  the  wind  is  brought ; 
.  The  foiled  pursuer  does  the  same ; 
But  slowly  loses  on  her  game, 
Which  driving  through  in  maddest  force, 
Successful  strains  his  altered  course  : 
In  the  gale's  teeth  his  flight  he  shapes; 
And  with  an  oath  the  prize  escapes  ! 


A  SEASIDE   DREAM. 


'TWAS  hours  before  the  sundown  boat 
Would  at  that  Tropic  landing  float ; 
And  in  a  netted  hammock  flung, 
I  waited,  sleeping  as  it  swung ; — 
The  vision  to  my  memory  clung. 


IN  my  bright  villa  on  the  peak, 

A  task  is  mine  : 
It  is  for  thornless  ease  to  seek, — 

Lifelong  recline. 

My  father  drove  laborious  prow 

Through  China  Sea ; 
With  fortune  came  and  made  me  vow 

I'd  idle  be. 

6  (81) 


82  A   SEASIDE  DREAM. 

He  placed  me  on  this  hazy  cliff 

And  decked  my  home  ; 
Then  stepped  in  his  argosy's  skiff, — 

Again  to  roam. 

AAvay  I  marked  him  fleetly  wear 

Towards  far  Mysore : 
They  told  me  soon  a  typhoon  there 

A  convoy  tore ; 

Yet  I  'gainst  care  and  courier  shut 

My  heart  and  tower : 
My  father's  dubious  fate  gave  but 

A  gloomy  hour. 


EYES  to  my  summer  moon  are  raised 

Beyond  the  seas : 
Gazing  on  her  as  I  have  gazed 

From  grottoed  ease. 

We  hear  she  has  a  God,  and  just ; 

But  cold  and  far  : 
They  who  have  naught  but  Him  to  trust, 

Most  wretched  are. 


A    SEASIDE   DREAM.  83 

The  arm  of  flesh  is  warm  and  strong : 

What  can  be  nigher? 
It  shall  redress  my  every  wrong, 

Win  each  desire. 

With  it  my  friend  my  heart's  elate, 

Unvexed  and  free : 
It  shall  console, — in  every  strait 

Deliver  me. 

The  un  con  verted 's  eye  they  say 

Hard,  glassy  is : 
Not  so  the  Christian's;  there's  a  ray 

Of  grief  in  his. 

Methinks  I  love  him  when  he's  bowed 

In  chastenings  low : 
Though  I  am  proud  I  hate  the  proud, 

I  scorn  their  show  : 

And  though  they  chant  their  rituals  sweet, 

Commune  and  pray ; 
They  shall  be  ashes  'neath  his  feet 

At  Vengeance-Day. 

I've  walked  to  where  immersed  in  sand 
On  beaches  far, 


84  A    SEASIDE  DREAM. 

The  bilging  wrecks  bird-haunted  stand, 
With  listed  spar  : 

On  them  the  water-shadows  lone 

At  noontide  play ; 
But  men  to  sail  and  men  to  own, 

Are  gone  for  aye. 

What  cares  vain  beauty  that  they  lie 

On  whimbreled  shores  ? 
She  flames  in  halls  pretension  high, 

While  man  adores : 

And  what  to  me  their  woe  and  loss  ? — 

My  purse  is  sure  : 
Their  transient  gains  may  flit  across ; 

But  mine  endure. 

While  rifts  of  dust  the  splendor  tame 

Of  tapestry  hem, 
In  high-lipped  vase  the  nectars  flame 

Like  molten  gem. 

For  as  the  years  embrowned  the  frieze 

And  dimmed  the  gold, 
The  lustre  refuged  here  in  these — 

My  liquors  old  : 


A    SEASIDE   DREAM. 

And  so  it  is  the  happy  sum 

Of  all  I  do  : 
My  joys  no  sooner  fade  than  come 

In  shape  anew. 

With  filmy  orb  I  lounge  and  note 

The  wings  of  gulls  ; 
The  pennons  which  in  distance  float, 

And  all  that  lulls. 

O  let  the  sweat  of  valleys  grieve 

The  man  of  toil ; 
My  life  shall  flow  as  calm  as  eve, 

As  perfumed  oil ; — 

As  free  as  the  sun-glistening  horse 

The  pampas  roves ; 
As  smooth  as  crested  chariots  course 

Through  palace  groves. 


ONE  morning  when  I  silent  lay 

In  oriel  height  ; 
Palled  were  the  heavens  in  leaden  grey 

With  base  of  light: 


86  A    SEASIDE  DREAM. 

And  there  in  sudden,  bold  define, 

What  scene  occurs — 
A  forest ! — like  the  jagged  line 

Of  northern  firs. 

The  horizon  whereon  it  rose 

Is  crowded  black  ; 
The  mass  approaches,  larger  grows, 

In  forward  track. 

An  aqueous  murmur,  gently  loud, 

Its  movements  cause : 
A  dome  is  cloven  in  the  cloud  ; 

The  objects  pause : 

Then  by  that  slanting  glow  I  saw 

The  vision  plain  : — 
Ships  of  all  time,  from  ocean's  maw, 

Here  sailed  again  ! 

Each  class  by  many  a  plan  and  style 

And  age,  estranged ; 
Drawn  up  as  though  in  curve  and  file, 

By  admiral  ranged. 

There  Cathay,  Tyre  and  Denmark  ply 
Their  ancient  oars  ; 


„•/    SEASIDE   DREAM.  \ 

And  Britain's  liners  bristle  high 
Their  cannoned  floors : 

The  galleon,  trader,  craft  of  steam, 

Malay  malign  ; 
And  yachts  of  princes — all  their  gleam 

Consumed  with  brine. 

By  spell  the  rotten  beams  in  place 

Are  held  as  one  ; 
As  wires  mount  in  study-case 

The  skeleton. 

Clusters  on  hull  and  tattered  sail 

Convervoid  green  ; 
Wrhile  down  the  masts  of  many  trail 

Vines  submarine. 

The  strengthening  sun  the  heaven  clears 

To  wondrous  day : 
A  sunlight  lacking,  it  appears, 

A  prismy  ray. 

Detached  and  vivid  come  o'erhead 

New  Glooms  opake; 
Then  in  a  voice  remote  and  dread, 

The  Wind-god  spake  :  — 


88  A    SEASIDE  DREAM. 

"Storms,  show  thy  prey  !" — each  sep'rate 
Shade 

Its  own  collects : 
The  phantom  Tempests  here  parade 

Their  phantom  wrecks : 

And  while  their  clammy,  briny  smells 

About  diffuse  ; 
The  host,  melodious  with  its  bells, 

The  god  reviews. 

Grandly  at  unseen  signal  beck, 

Manoeuvre  all ; 
The  thirsty  birds  a  nimbus  peck 

And  showers  fall : 

Refreshed  the  ghostly  messmen  ope 

The  wonted  song, 
The  sailors'  notes  at  chain  and  rope — 

Slow,  wild  and  long. 

They  sing  in  turn ;  but  when  they  meet 

In  hap  commune, 
Combined  their  chorus  shakes  the  fleet — 

A  storm  of  tune. 


A    SEASIDE   DREAM. 

Their  flags  the  navies  flaunt  and  dip, 

In  passing  speed  : 
I  quickly  see  my  father's  ship, 

Her  name  I  read. 

The  crew  on  reedy  quarter  keep 

A  circling  pace  ; 
While  I  with  ten-fold  vision  peep 

In  each  man's  face  : 

He  is  not  there  ! — but  that  escape 

Can  scarce  console  : 
Death  he  has  met  in  other  shape 

Than  blast  or  shoal. 

Soon  on  my  olden  flowers  and  calm 

Dilates  my  eye ; 
Upon  my  castled  cliff  I  am, 

In  oriel  high ; 

Above  me  bends  his  countenance 

With  joyful  tears:  — 
Unscathed  it  by  shipwreck  chance, 

But  etched  by  years. 

The  sun  upon  the  ocean  quaffs 
His  vesper  wine  ; 


89 


9o 


A    SEASIDE  DREAM. 

And,  sure  of  future  glory,  laughs 
At  his  decline ; 

But  rarer  pageantry  illumes 

Our  garden  cove ; 
In  pomp  centennial  bursts  and  blooms 

The  aloe  grove. 


Now,  in  our  hour  of  strength  and  pride, 

We'll  wisdom  learn  ; 
And  land  from  off  this  dancing  tide 

Before  it  turn  : 

We'll  give  our  hearts  and  treasures  up 

To  Lord  of  all ; 
If  need  be  share  His  earthly  cup 

Of  shame  and  gall. 

We'll  seek  despairing  ones  to  save, 

To  help  and  soothe  ; 

Make   their   crushed    lives    more    sweetly 
brave, 

Their  deathbeds  smooth. 


A    SEASIDE   DREAM. 

Long  as  our  busy  day  protracts, 

His  Word  we'll  spread  : 
He  will  accept  our  faithful  acts, 

As  He  has  said. 

Here  we've  no  song;  but  hope  for  what 

Shall  ne'er  be  dumb  : 
Here  no  continuing  city — but 

Seek  one  to  come. 


MY  dream  within  a  dream,  is  past: 
The  cutter  waits  for  me  at  last ; 
The  straggling  crew  resume  their  ash ; 
Impel  with  oft-recurring  plash. 
Poor  children  of  the  sea, — how  due 
What  good  I  work  commence  with  you  ! 


THE  ICEBERG. 


THERE'S  in  a  region  of  my  studied  map, 

The  Giant's  home  whom  I  from  fancy  draw : 

His  mother  Greenland  reared  him  in  her  lap — 
Patient  'mid  polar  night  and  cold  and  thaw: 
Rewarded  when  his  wondrous  strength  she  saw. 

Aurora  pleased  him  : — he  revered  her ;  and 
Absorbed  the  glory  of  her  splendid  eye  : 

She    brushed   his   temples   with   her   treacherous 

hand, 

Sent  him  adown  the  inviting  ocean  nigh — 
Like  human  Power  to  loom,  dissolve  and  die. 


UNCHARTED  Teneriffe — stupendous  isle 
Unclaimed,  ungarrisoned — a  wandering  Alp 
Detached  and  venturous — an  Iceberg  lone 
Drifts  on  the  ocean  !     Heaped  grotesque, 
(92) 


THE   ICEBERG. 


93 


As  by  the  fancy  of  a  god  at  play,  the  crags 
Teem  with  romance's  emblems.      Frost  exhausts 
His  potent  cunning;  and  the  irised  pomp, 
Flamed  in  wild  breadth  upon  the  glassy  steeps, 
Is  as  though  sunset  gifted  mantle  here — 
Nature  heart-set  to  image  out  a  King. 

Frigates  far  beyond 

The  horizon  below,  the  peak  o'erlooks; 
And,  probing  to  unfathomed  night,  the  draught 
Explores  the  terrors  of  the  nether  waste, 
Whose  currents  bear  against  the  surface  tides, 
The  bulk  colossal  that  leagues  coolness  round. 
While  bubbly  nebulas  interior  halls 
And  cells,  are  charged  with  hyperborean  air ; 
Where  fairies  or  sprites  embryo  might  dwell 
In  the  eternal  purity  of  cold  : 
So,  held  by  flesh,  the  soul  of  heavenly  breath 
Awaits  departure  ;  as  dissolving  fast, 
These  wander  up  and  on  the  sunshine  burst, — 
Fringing  a  rim  of  effervescent  sea. 

A  bark  becalmed  is  near.     A  hundred  eyes 
Are  peering  o'er  the  nettings  ;  glancing  up 
The  mighty  altitude — from  where  upon  the  wave, 
Swallowing     its     brine,    the     caverns     monster- 
mouthed, 


94 


THE   ICEBERG. 


Fanged   bright  with    icicles,    yawn  in  mysteried 

depth — 

To  silvery  ridges  and  the  summit's  crown 
Of  scintillating  pinnacles  that  pierce 
The  sky  with  fragile  fingers  : — Sol  o'er  all 
Flooding  his  glory.     Everything  is  still 
In  the  grand  presence  ;  vanity's  suppressed 
By  grave  emotion — wonder,  awe  and  dread. 

Water  is  gushing  devious  down  the  Berg, 
As  river  down  the  cheek  of  distant  mount. 
A  boulder  vast  and  black  is  bedded  near 
The  tranquil  brim,  and  soon  to  fall  therein — 
Landmark  and  marvel  to  a  future  land ; 
But  on  a  lower  ledge  a  form  of  life  ! — 
An  Arctic  bear  stalks  circumscribed  and  opes 
Despairing  roar. 

The  mass  turns  slow ;  and  silently  displays 
A  sight  of  horror — vestiges  of  some 
Colliding  ship  impinged  upon  the  ice  : — 
A  torn-out  stem  with  garniture  of  wreck ; 
Bowsprit  and  martingal,  figurehead  of  gold., 
Headrails  and  headstays,  cutwater  and  bitts, 
Breast-hooks  and  capstan  brassed  and  anchor  red ; — 
Conspicuous  all.     'Twas  some  such  tale  as  this : 


THE   ICEBERG. 


95 


The  busy  engines  of  a  steamer  kept 
Through  misty  midnight  a  metallic  hum. 
The  drowsy  watch  no  peril  dreamed ;  below 
Lay  the  returning  from  the  foreign  tour. 
Frothing  in  wake  a  mile  of  white  abode 
But  the  hid  moon  to  sparkle.    On  the  track  before 
Moves  unperceived  the  Berg.     In  the  hushed  air 
Are  ghoulish  whisperings,  as  though  the  deeps 
Hist  to  each  other — wistful  for  their  prey. 

As  the  war  courser,  roweled  to  the  bone 
On  the  repelling  line  of  leveled  steel, 
Recoils  upon  his  haunch  with  cloven  throat, 
Amid  the  shower  of  his  own  life -gore ; — 
So  this  arrested  traverser  is  checked 
By  the  ice-rock,  'mid  the  descent 
Of  splinters  myriad  ;  and  quickly  feels 
The  exultant  ocean's  inward-darted  grasp 
Cqld  in  her  vitals.     Crowded  sleepers  roused, 
In  frantic  panic  seek  unplanned  escape ; 
Through  cabin  floor  the  pressing  seas  suffuse 
The  carpet  cespitous  ;  through  portals  surged, 
They  seize  and  buoy  aloft  the  trinketry — - 
They  drink  the  splendors  of  that  long  saloon — 
They  gnash  against  the  ceiling.     Then  the  plunge  ! 
Above  the  bulwarks  mount  the  boarding  streams, 


96  THE   ICEBERG. 

As  wolves  across  a  rent  stockade — or  as 

The  eager  legions  of  besieging  war, 

Wheeled  to  the  storming  shock,  tumultuous  sweep 

The  escaladed  rampart ;  and  as  o'er 

The  roaring  rout,  yet  planted  in  its  midst, 

The  doubtful  standard  holds  precarious  root — 

So  sways  the  royalmast  to  flaunt  once  more 

Its  pennant — ere  above  the  diving  truck, 

And  crushed  or  davit-foul  or  swamping  boats, 

The  maelstrom  spins,  the  thousand  relics  rise ; 

And  struggling  men  in  darkness  clutch  them  round. 

And  morning  came,  as  mornings  often  come 
After  our  nights  of  woe — serene  as  e'er, 
And  innocently  radiant — as  unaware 
Of  what  transpired  meanwhile.     The  ortive  sun 
Inducts  afresh  the  miracle  of  a  day ; 
In  confidence  appears,  in  hope  to  touch 
Anew  his  petted  ship  of  yester-eve. 
He  sees  her  not ;  yet  climbing,  wider  range 
O'erlooks ;  and,  more  surprised,  a  wider  still  : 
Then  settling  on  the  Berg  he  seems  to  say, 
As  the  Almighty  to  the  guilty  Cain, 
"Where  is  thy  brother?"     Now  there    came  a 

cloud — 
An  interposing  cloud  athwart  the  disc ; 


THE   ICEBERG. 


97 


And  on  the  pile  the  shadow  fell,  while  all  about 
Was  luminous  : — it  was  as  though  God  frowned 
On  the  Destroyer  and  abhorred  its  work  ; 
For  as  where'er  a  man  may  wander,  sky 
Keeps  e'er  above  him ;  even  so  'tis  vain, 
In  the  sphered  world's  inclusion,  to  elude 
Or  move  out  from  beneath  His  overwatching. 

A  child  repines  for  its  providing  sire ; 
A  wife  drops  tears  upon  a  miniature  ; 
A  mother  watches,  with  hand-shaded  eyes, 
Some  one's  return  ;  and  all  the  little  whirl — 
The  wonted  whirl  of  hopes,  alarms,  despairs, 
Transiently  noises   the    overdue,    the   foundered, 

lost. 

While  the  cold  Iceberg 
Stalks  o'er   the  sea  in   silence  :    as  the  proud  of 

earth — 

The  throned,  the  famous,  and  the  beauteous  too, 
Course  on  impenetrably  iced  in  self — 
Thoughtless,  regardless  of  the  wrecks  they  cause. 
But  One  said  long  ago,  that  like  as  wax 
At  fire  wasteth,  so  let  such  as  these, 
Ungodly,  perish  by  a  present  God  ; 
A  nil  thou  O  Berg  !  when  yonder  sun 
Exchanges  temperate  ray  for  torrid  flame, 


98  THE   ICEBERG. 

Then  thou  in  lower  latitude  shalt  melt ! 

Even  now  thy  groan 

Of  verging  dissolution  rumbles  forth — 

As  some  sapped  rib  or  glacial  shield  falls  in ; 

And,  like  a  battery's  voice,  shoots  startling  boom  ! 

The  bark  becalmed,  from  which  the  hundred 

eyes 

Peered  marveling  up,  now  scents  reviving  breeze : 
Her  agitated  jib  distends,  contracts, 
Like  a  fawn's  snuffing  nostril.     Seamen  trim 
To  favorable  angle  every  yard  ; 
And  watch  each  indication  of  the  air. 
Lo,  what  a  crash  of  glittering  ice  behind  ! 
Is  the  Berg  toppling? — no  :   its  crown  is  reft : — 
The  lofty  diadem  that  frosting  floods 
Shot  with  prismatic  beauty,  and  encast 
On  this  their  champion's  brow,  is  shivered  off- 
Its  gemmary  debris  hailstoning  the  deep ; 
And  to  a  chaos  of  commingled  dyes 
Shatters  the  mirrored  shimmering  below. 

And  softly  as  ourselves  and  past  events 
Recede  each  other  from  on  Chronos'  sea ; — 
Mark  soon  the  level  distance  rolling  out, 
Like  mazarine  velvet  from  imperial  loom, 


THE   ICEBERG. 

Between  the  hieing  ship  and  solemn  Berg  ! 
But  mile  to  mile  near  doubled  score  extends, 
Ere  to  the  glass-trained  eye  the  Ice-king  all 
Descends  in  ocean  : — and  above  the  tip 
The  skyline  closes  objectless  and  lone. 


99 


FINIS. 


HYMN. 


(FROM  THE  BOOK  OF  COMMON  PRAYER.) 

SOVEREIGN  RULER  of  the  skies, 
Ever  gracious,  ever  wise  ; 
All  our  times  are  in  Thy  hand  : 
All  events  at  Thy  command. 

He  that  formed  us  in  the  womb, 
He  shall  guide  us  to  the  tomb : 
All  our  ways  shall  ever  be 
Ordered  by  His  wise  decree. 

Times  of  sickness,  times  of  health, 
Blighting  want  and  cheerful  wealth  ; 
All  our  pleasures,  all  our  pains, 
Come  and  end  as  God  ordains. 

May  we  always  see  Thy  hand, 
Still  to  Thee  surrendered  stand, 
Know  that  Thou  art  God  alone  ; 
We  and  ours  are  all  Thy  own  ! 
(100) 


UCSB  UBRAR* 


